


The Lobsterman

by Cowfolkqueer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1980's, F/F, Human AU, I use a different name for Fem!Russia I'm not sorry, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbian Relationship, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowfolkqueer/pseuds/Cowfolkqueer
Summary: Homecomings are never easy, especially when you've never really called the place you're coming back to your home.Talia returns home to Maine to take care of her sick mother and is reunited with her boisterous friend from her childhood. There's something terrifying about admitting who you are to yourself--let alone anyone else. Separating yourself from tradition is complex and painful, Talia knows from experience. She already lives in two worlds--Russian and American. This homecoming adds another dimension to her life.
Relationships: America & Russia (Hetalia), Female America/Female Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to me trying to complete a story. I'll be trying to update this somewhat regularly but I'm really not sure how this will go. This is my little quarantine project tbh!

Chapter 1  
The road seemed to stretch forever through the windshield. Miles of road, snaking its way through tall trees went on before and behind Talia as she pressed the gas pedal a little harder. Music from the radio gently spilled into the car, but it had become just noise after the first few hours. Silence could have been preferable, but the chances of her falling too deeply into her thoughts was high. It was far too easy to think of all the things that had changed while the road stretched on before her; all leading back to that small town.  
It wasn’t that she held any ill will towards the small fishing town that had seen her through her teenage years. It was more of a lack of feeling towards the place and the memories that accumulated over the years. The main thing she had looked forward to during those years was leaving. And here she was, coming back. Almost 300 miles had passed over the last few hours and she was finding it hard to fight off a feeling of foreboding as the sky began to turn a brilliant orange. The sun dripped beneath the horizon like peaches dripping opium all while the trees began to thin. She was doing it. Uprooting, for what felt like the hundredth time.  
As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, she found herself on the familiar stretch of highway she had driven as a kid. It was spring and the weather was turning from the brisk cold into the foggy evenings of her youth. The same fog that would roll through off the water on the warmer days as the air cooled in the evenings. It became a little harder to see, but she pressed on as she grew ever closer to the harbor town.  
Her fingers gripped the wheel tightly as she turned onto the main drag. Not much was to lit up, seeing as the sun had already set. The grocery and the old bar were the only two places with their lights still on. But she knew that the old man Harry, who ran the local grocer, kept the lights on to “keep the area a little safer” as he would say. A few restaurants and the local dive bar were all within a few hundred feet of each other and the parking lot could get rowdy after dark. At least during the winter and spring months. The fall and the summer were left to the leaf peepers and the tourists that brought the town a majority of its income. That time would be upon them before they knew it.  
She paused. How easy it was to slip back into the mindset of the local townsfolk. The tourists were somewhat welcomed, but mostly tolerated. They obviously brought income but they also brought disruption with them. They made the normal routines almost impossible. So much so that most people had begun to work them into their daily doings. People rented out small guest cottages and the hotels were always trying to serve the freshest lobsters and oysters. The restaurants faced a higher demand of everything traditionally “Maine” and the town even threw an annual Lobster Festival.  
With a resigned sigh, Talia realized that that would likely be the highlight of her summer; just as it had been the highlight during her youth. There was little excitement and little to do in the small town. She would make due, however. She wasn’t there for her own pleasure. There were more important things at stake. As the pungent odor of the salt marshes filtered into the car through the cracked window, she was plunged into the clouds of her memory. These things would take time to become reaccustomed to.

Talia pulled into the gravel driveway that led to her mother’s small house. The sea-air had caused the red paint of the small A-frame house to flake and fade. Her lips pulled into a slight frown at the sight of her mother’s garden which was in dire need of some guidance on how to grow now that the warmer weather was upon them. Her mother had always been a woman of strong heart--dedicated to the little things. She was the type to criticize and fix whatever wrong she had seen within seconds. It was simply her Russian way. There was no way to outgrow an instinct instilled in one from birth. The lack state of the house, the flowers on the porch, the garden all made her heart sink.  
‘Oh mama, I had hoped things weren’t so… Grim.’  
She breathed to herself as she cut the engine on the old car. It was a hand me down from her father, but she felt no real semblance of nostalgia over the old thing. It had a tendency to overheat in the summers and shudder and spurt in the winters. It was reliable, however. It had at least gotten her from Boston to here all in about 5 hours without any real trouble. But these were the idling months. The months when little went wrong and life seemed to breeze by. Things got easier in the spring. The sun would finally come back and vegetables would grow and Mama would once again make her jams and dance while ukha simmered on the stove. There was always laughter in the house in the spring. But summer had always been stressful. When Richard had still been alive he would always complain how the tourists were destroying the perfectly balanced wilderness that allowed them to live such picturesque lives. But nobody listened. The tourists were what drove their economy. They made sure there was a little extra padding in everyone’s pockets.  
She braced herself, letting out a sigh with white knuckles on the steering wheel. She wasn’t ready to come home, not yet. But home she was. She opened the car door and manhandled her suitcase out of the cramped backseat of the sickly green Chevy Nova. She approached the front door with reverence, noting how, other than the chipping paint and wilting flower, little had changed in her childhood home. Her mother had done her best to bring a touch of the Old Land into the American town and Talia was brought back to her grandmother’s home. The homecoming felt quite similar.  
Putting the key into the lock, she opened a door into her past and walked into her mother’s house right as the sun was setting into inky waters. She heard the drone of the television from the stoop and smiled. Her mother had fallen in love with American movies and television when she arrived in the States. Her eyes had swallowed every piece of cinema she had come in contact with, it seemed. There was nothing she loved more than their familial pilgrimages to the movies.  
“Mamochka,” she called out into the room, heaving her suitcase inside behind her.  
Talia kicked the door closed with a foot and looked into the quickly darkening house. The windows were cracked and the gentle sea breeze smell seeped from the whole house. There were few lights on beside the living room and with the sun having set there was little to show her the way. But that was no matter, she knew this house like the back of her hand. The kitchen counter lay bare except for a large stack of mail, not yet sorted, laying on the corner closest to the door. On the counter there was a small crystal jar, filled with treats--you could only have one after dinner and that was it, any more and mama would somehow know. Some fruit, likely bananas ripened sickeningly next to the stove. On top of which, there was always a pot of some kind of soup, left out over days. Mama always said it did nothing against the flavor but she, after years of indoctrination from the United States would fret at her mother over how sanitary it was.  
“Ya zdes, Natalya” called a thin voice from the living room.  
Her mother’s voice showed no shock or appreciation at Talia having made the drive or that she was coming to stay for an indefinite period. There was no need for grandeur in her response. It simply was as things were to be. Simple and matter of fact.  
Still, she set down the heavy suitcase, burdened with a life still not yet lived, and made her way into the living room where her mother sat. A nurse sat quietly nearby, reading. Talia blinked. She had known there would be nighttime nurses to assist her mother in moving about the house, however she hadn’t realized that this woman would be a part of daily life. She had never thought of it, perhaps.  
“Ah, hello,” she greeted awkwardly, swooping in to give her mother a kiss on the cheek.  
The nurse looked up, she had a kind smile and gentle mousey curls. There was little notable about her. She was mid-aged and somewhat plump. She had one dimple and brown eyes. She wasn’t particularly pretty, but then again these kind of towns weren’t easy on those who chose to stay.  
The woman offered back a nod and a smile, then returned to her reading. She wasn’t exactly going to be a fixture, in the household she surmised. Just someone to mind every now and then. But she knew she would need to be taught the routines and proper ways in which she would need to care for her mother. There would be medicines and treatments to go to and daily exercises and maybe even a daily regimen to keep the days from dragging on too long. She honestly didn’t know, as she had not grown up around elderly people. This was her first exposure to what life was like once you were past your prime. She paused, that wasn’t a way she enjoyed thinking about her mother.  
After being soundly chastised for her late arrival, Talia learned from the nurse that there was a strict schedule in the works for her mother and that she was to learn it and help out as she could. Her mother needed assistance making meals and moving about the house as her lungs were weak. She needed an oxygen tank. It worried her to see the fixture of a woman she had grown up with seem so frail and need so much help. Help in the garden; in the kitchen; cleaning the house. That was the main reason for her being back; company and assistance to keep her mother from moving to a bigger city with an actual assisted living community. Her mother had balked at the suggestion, thus, she was home. It wasn’t a burden, really, it was just a fact of life. Her mother had done so much when Talia was younger. This was the next step in the process. 

Talia stared at herself in her childhood bathroom mirror. She was thin, but still had round cheeks that stood out prominently. She looked tired and older than 24, the result of a fast paced city life she supposed. Her eyes had bags under them from late nights and as she took a hand to pat her face, she noticed her nails looked ragged and too long. Her hair was a dull mousey blonde color in the fluorescent light and her lips stood out starkly against the yellow cast light. She was far from impressed by what she saw.  
Her mother was already in bed at this point and Talia wasn’t sure how to spend her nights. Her mother’s schedule had her in bed by 9:00 and her evenings were relatively free. Not that she had much freedom--she couldn’t go too far from the house. What if something happened?  
For the time being, she was filling her nights with reading banned novels published by the infamous Zamyatin, Bulgakov, and Pasternak. The ability to read them was the American promise wrapped up in a nice Russian bow. They held tongue-in-cheek secrets of a land almost foreign to her. They were not books that could live in Russia as she was, but that was not a Russia familiar to Talia. She knew Russia as she was described by her mother and through these books and the ever fear-mongering news.  
They were, obviously, published in English for an American audience. They would, obviously, laude themselves for being so forward thinking as to appreciate the works of such monoliths. And they would, obviously, not understand the context of the stories one bit. Not that Talia could fully understand it either. But she was sick of Clancy’s dramatic detailing of Russians, hidden in plain sight. As if they were some maleficent creatures, out to haunt and beguile the American public.  
But as she rested against a pile of too soft pillows she told herself that she absorbed the Russian essence of the novels. There was a kindred feeling in these novels. One she could only tap into when she acted as if she understood the critiques the authors hurled against the Soviet Union. It wasn’t all an act. She understood their frustration and their need to speak against the insanity in which they lived. She understood the different ways of life that were illustrated throughout the books. The monotonous daily struggle that seemed roundabout and at times completely backwards. That much, she did understand. She cracked open the novel by Zamyatin known as We, and allowed the words to languidly wash over her. There was no hurry anymore. No hustle and bustle. There was just her, the gentle clanging of bells on boats in the harbor, and so much time.


	2. A Night at Dusty's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia cannot handle being alone with just her mother. After a few weeks, she finally ventures out into the town where she stumbles upon an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me dating this piece with Fast Car lmfao  
> Hope you enjoy, more to come soon!

It had taken two weeks for the boredom to set in. There were always meals to be started or finished. She had restarted the garden and was tending to it daily. Weeding was turning into a daily ritual that she could not ignore. It was meditative. But solitary. It seemed that the weeds knew their duty and took it upon themselves with utter solemnity: grow at a pace that would keep Talia busy for a portion of the mornings almost every day without fail. While she was outside the breeze blew briney air across her face and kept the temperatures down, even in the sun. The only days she wouldn’t go out is when the rain poured down in torrents. Then she was relegated to watching TV with mama. Now and then she would try to cook something for her mother, but it was always met with head shaking and a dry and breathless question on how, if she couldn’t feed her own mother, she would feed her children. 

Talia would smile, though it was becoming forced, and ask her mother to show her how to make whatever meal she had in mind and followed behind her. She felt like a child at her mother’s skirts once again. 

There was little she could do around the house without her mother’s approval and her mother did not find the job of repairing the house suitable for a young woman. They argued over it for hours. ‘Mama, at the Dacha, who takes care of the paint on the house?’ ‘Whoever is around of course!’ ‘Then mama, why can I not work on the house, it’s beginning to fall apart!’ ‘There’s someone else to do that work, Natalya. Do not fret! Do not fret!’

Do not fret. That was her mother’s big gun phrase that set Talia’s teeth on edge as well as ended arguments. Nothing could be said or done from there. And it drove Talia mad.Two weeks had passed and it felt akin to passing a kidney stone in terms of the agonizing passing of time. And so, it wasn’t too long after the painting of the house conversation that Talia found herself leaving the house at 9:25 to walk to the local bar. The weather was fine enough, maybe a little brisk for someone who hadn’t grown up in the Maine weather. She would be fine with a coat, however.

She had vowed to herself that she wouldn’t come back here after the time her mother had caught her in the bar when she was supposed to be out studying. But hopefully she wouldn’t be recognized immediately for her juvenile mistake. She had been of age, of course. She just hadn’t received her mother’s permission. And so, feeling spurred on by some supernatural suspicion, her mother had stormed into the establishment and dragged Talia out by her ear, much to the amusement of the bartender and the regulars of the bar. 

Talia had settled herself at the bar, quiety tucking herself away at the end of the bar near the door. She was drinking an old habit, from her younger days--a malibu and coke. She hadn’t had one in years but Dusty, the old lanky bartender who had seen her drinking from her teenage years until now, was known for his staunch refusal to pour “fancy drinks”. Maybe Boston had spoiled her. The drink itself was tasty, however it never seemed to do the job in getting her drunk until she was a few glasses deep. She surveyed the bar. There was a dartboard to the left, notably located close to the bathroom so people always got in each other’s way. But there wasn’t a scene happening now. For the moment she was able to sit in silence, enjoying her drink and her moment outside of the house. Music gently filtered over the speaker system from the radio. There was no live music tonight, seeing as it was a Tuesday. That wouldn’t come until Thursday or Friday at least. 

It wasn’t long, however, until a rowdy crew of lobstermen broke into the quiet space. She glanced over her shoulder to clock who entered the bar and recognized two faces. The loudest of the two she recognized as Matthew and Mark. Both had been seniors when she was in her sophomore year of highschool. At that point she had grown confident in her English and was more talkative, yet she had the reputation as being soft spoken and timid across the school. Matthew and Mark cheered boisterously as they entered the small bar, calling for their usual drinks and greeting the other locals who were populating the nearly empty bar. Talia set her teeth and looked firmly into her drink, not checking to see who else had sauntered in with them. 

It came as little surprise that those two had stayed in the small town. They weren’t ones for the big cities or education for that matter. It seemed all they wanted to know was the salt water, what wandered around in their little wooden traps, and what was inside of an oyster. She didn’t particularly care for them, but she also wished them no ill. She simply didn’t want her quiet night out to get taken away from her. 

“Holy shit!” A voice yelled, cutting across the music. “Holy. Shit.” It punctuated.

A hand slapped down on her shoulder and Natalia was spun round on her barstool seat to face the rosy smile of none other than Amelia Jones.   
“Our local Ice Queen has come to grace us once again!” Amelia crowed, tilting her head back, “Dusty, a round on me.” She called, pointing a finger at the scrawny, white haired man. 

Talia sat there in silence, taking in the already sunburned and freckled face of Amelia Jones. The woman was taller than average and had a bulk about her that was undoubtedly all muscle. The pungent odor of the sea filled the air around her. It was a fresh, almost musky smell. Needless to say, this wasn’t the evening she had been imagining when she’d snuck off to the bar. 

“You’re still here?” Talia asked, falteringly, transfixed with Amelia’s bright smile. Little had changed, save Amelia’s laugh lines. They’d grown deeper over the years as the sun had set them firmly into her face. 

Amelia laughed loudly and nodded assuredly. Her hand stayed firmly on Talia’s shoulder and she leaned forward and nodded. Before she could say anything in response, Dusty slid two shots of hard vodka over to the two women and two shots over to Matthew and Mark. The two women gave each other a nod, tapped glasses, then continued to catch up.

“Of course I stayed, what else would there be for me?” Amelia questioned, motioning to the bartender for a lime to chase with.  
Talia had only taken half of the shot she was given. She had been trying to give up taking shots. Maybe in college she would drink that kind of thing, however she was about two years out from that kind of behavior. For now, she was sipping vodka like a good Russian. 

“Where did you run off to, Tals?” Amelia asked, pulling back and seating herself on a stool close to her. “Somewhere big, right? Somewhere with that promise you were always talking ‘bout?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Talia took another sip of her drink then thought, “Well, I mean. Maybe. I took some classes.” She admitted quietly.

“No shit,” Amelia looked at her as she waved towards Dusty for another drink, “so you made it the whole four years?”

Talia nodded sheepishly. She had worked for two years in a day trading firm, answering calls and giving new clients the information they needed to buy in. But that wasn’t that important. She had built up a substantial base of clientele, people that trusted her work and would only speak with her on the day to day matters of trading. But she’d had to quit in order to come home. So that wasn’t really a story that held any interest. Maybe, if she went back. But not now.   
“That’s insane. I could hardly sit through those stupid English classes and here you are, four years out of a degree with some--what is it you studied?” She asked suddenly.

“Business analytics,” Talia said, glancing to meet Amelia’s eyes for a moment.

“Business analytics.” Amelia repeated, punctuating her words with pounding her fist on the table. Dusty slid her a drink and she gave him a bright smile then turned back to Talia. “Well, business analytics or not, you’re back here, huh?”

Talia nodded and wavered slightly under Amelia’s intense stare. That had always been something about Amelia. She wasn’t one to do things in half-increments. Her intensity was always behind her actions. If she wanted answers to any kind of question she would always find an answer.   
Amelia stared at her as Talia shifted her drink back and forth between her fingers. She hadn’t expected a ghost of her childhood to appear and suddenly to drill her for answers. Maybe Amelia wasn’t asking for much from her, but she felt too on display. Amelia had been the only one to give her the time of day when she was first learning English. It had been the worst few months of her life--it was sink or swim and she had very much sunk. But Amelia had latched on and didn’t seem to let go. She would tell her jokes that Talia still didn’t understand and had dragged her along on many adventures to the seaside. Amelia had taught her the world for crabs and oysters long before anything actually important to conversation. She clearly remembered the day when they had discussed how to describe the ocean. The smell of sea brine, the wind, and the crashing sound of the waves against the shore; that had been one of her first articulated conversations in English. In all honesty, it was no surprise that Amelia had stayed. She loved the sea more than anything else. Her becoming one of the lobsterman was almost poetry.   
“It always ends with us coming back here, doesn’t it?” She asked, smiling into a sip of her drink. 

The night dragged on and Amelia and her fellow lobstermen kept drinking and drinking and drinking. They seemed to have no limits on how much they could consume. It was almost like watching a sport, Talia decided. For every drink her friends drank, Amelia made sure to drink an extra two. She wasn’t sure how Amelia was still standing by the time midnight struck. At that point, Amelia was slurring and yelled over to the bartender to turn up the music in the bar. It wasn’t too much of a nuisance. There were only 10 patrons in the bar, including Amelia, her friends, and Talia. 

As Tracy Chapman began to filter through the speakers, Amelia threw her hands up and excused herself from the bar. She made her way to the empty portion of the bar where truly intoxicated members of the bar could dance. She danced on her own, truly living in the moment and feeling the moment. Talia couldn’t help but be embarrassed for the woman. But maybe that was just because she wasn’t drunk enough. 

She caught her own eye in the window and saw plainly her pink cheeks and the wrinkles around her eyes. She saw that she was smiling stupidly and that her hair was a little untidy. The face in the reflection stared back at her with blank eyes and her skin crawled. 

It was when Amelia tried to grab her hand and pull her into the raucous mess that Talia fled the bar. She wasn’t quite sure why, but the moment that Amelia tried to rope her into her stupid dance that she felt her cheeks flush red and she knew deep down that she needed to go home. It was then that she caught a glance of herself in the clouded window that sat across from her. Her cheeks were a bright red and her eyes were glistening, drunkenly. Her hair was wild and her characteristic smirk had crept out. It wasn’t the look of a caretaker. She seemed like a casual townie. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with dancing along with Amelia but she couldn’t help her heart rate from jumping up in anxiety. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. 

And so she leaned forward and asked Dusty how much she owed. After an excruciatingly long period of time with Amelia staring intently at her, he gave her her total. She quickly pulled the bills out of her pocket and turned heel and walked out of the bar, ignoring the complaints from Amelia as she turned her back on the scene in the bar and made her way back to the small A-frame. She couldn’t be in that stifling bar. Not then. A part of her wanted so badly to take Amelia’s hand and playfully dance with her, just as she had been invited to. But some other part of her told her it wouldn’t be right. It was best to head home. What if her mother needed her?


	3. The Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rain sets in and the two women find themselves caught up on thoughts of one another.

Talia’s nails were caked with mud. The skin of her hands were rough and dry from days spent in the garden, but it was her only time to reflect. Time spent around the swelling sprouts and quietly sombering roots was a time for her to be present. It was a time when she could shove her loud thoughts to the back of her head and focus on the task at hand. Sometimes, that is.   
Talia rose early after her trip to the bar out of some kind of orthodox guilt and threw herself into the garden. She had been starting a few different plants: some peppers, some radishes, some small beanstalks even were all poking their dainty heads out of their small starter tray--all ready to be plunged into the peaty soil she had laboriously spread and then tilled a week prior. The noise of the television filtered outside, pouring through the open front door into the side plot. Her mother had to listen to the television so loud nowadays, it fueled many of Talia's headaches.   
The sound of the weather broadcast caught Talia’s attention. Rain to come. She looked down at the plants that surrounded her and her grimy hands then she squinted petulantly up at the sky where clouds were starting to gather. Her thoughts tumbled in the back of her mind and she thought back to Amelia and her outstretched hand, enticing her to dance.

“Back in so soon?” Her mother asked, not looking up from the television. The program surely couldn’t be that interesting. “Tea?”  
Talia hummed, answering both questions. She placed the tea kettle under the sink and watched as it slowly filled up. Mindlessly, she turned on the stove, grabbed a sweet from the jar on the counter, and placed the kettle on the stove.  
“Your thoughts are in the clouds, huh?” Her mother asked, having appeared in the kitchen. “You get that miles away look in your eyes and you find something to chew on.”  
“Maybe so,” Talia’s cheeks went red as she popped the rest of the treat into her mouth.  
She couldn’t help it, her thoughts would not stay in the present. They were drawn back to the bar. The brief reintroduction to Amelia had been a surprising highlight of her time being back, but for some reason she felt nervous to come back to the friendship. There had always been a tension between them. And she hadn’t made it any better when she had left. Talia had practically run out of the town without a goodbye to hardly anyone after graduation, pushing their friendship to the side. She hadn’t called back to check in on Amelia once over her four years and the times that she had come back to town--for holidays or the like--she had stuck to her house and the grocery store. That didn’t mean she hadn’t thought of her though. Amelia appeared frequently in her dreams in college but--

“Maybe so,” her mother tutted and moved slowly to the kitchen cupboard to pull out the nice china cups. 

Her mother was a strange creation of Soviet deprivation that was allowed to live the so-called American dream. She had her picket fence and her small house with a small plot beside it--just like at the dacha. She had a daughter with a college degree and she lived well. She grew old in ease, with some help, and didn’t have to wait in line for food. There was little her mother couldn’t do besides the things her mobility limited her to. Talia watched her mother’s deliberate actions, trembling as she set the tea cup down on the counter. Her movements were no longer smooth as they used to be, but they still managed to hold some of their grace. Like a tired ballerina who simply could not hold their head up quite as high, her mother moved around the house, lugging her oxygen tank after her.   
“Careful mama, here let me help you,” Talia placed a steady hand over her mother’s on the handle of the kettle.   
She wondered for a moment what Amelia’s life was like now. If she still lived at the old house by the sea. If her brothers still tormented her like they used to. If she still felt like an odd man out in the small town. If she still liked to go for drives on the stretches of highway surrounding the town. If she still smelled like old leather and instant coffee--  
The water still sloshed into the cup, her mother’s shaking disturbing the stream as it flowed. Scalding water sloshed onto Talia’s shoes and spilled across the counter. The rain started as Talia was wiping up the mess.

Amelia twisted her face as she squinted up at the layers of clouds. The rain had just begun to fall and damn if she wasn’t dreading finishing up the day in the wet cold. She spit over the side of the boat and surveyed the wire crates they had picked up so far. They weren’t at a stopping point, not really, just a break for some food and water. Amelia leaned her hip against the side of the boat and leaned out over the water, feeling droplets of rain hit her cheeks and shoulders.  
“Gonna be a wet one, Paulie” Though she addressed Paul, she made no notice of his response as she pushed herself away from the side of the boat and went to grab her thick rubber raincoat. It swallowed her, despite her frame.  
But that was how it was with hand-me-downs. The coat had once been a deep forest green, but over the years it had grown worn and was now a light mossy color. Her older brother, Paul, was the captain of this operation. Another hand-me-down of sorts. Paul had taken over after their father had passed away, and now it was her, her older brother, her cousin James, and the local Pharmacy owner’s son. She was the first mate of the motley crew which left her in charge of sorting out the lobsters that were big enough to sell from the rest they caught during the day. It wasn’t incredibly labour intensive, you just had to be fast and have a good eye for it.  
Thankfully, she’d had both of those things from a young age and had been able to show her family that she could make it out on the waters as well. All it took was skill and a bullheaded kind of dedication to doing as she pleased.  
“Alright we’ve done ‘bout 300 cages, it’s looking like we can maybe, and I mean just maybe, get in ‘fore this shit hits the fan. Whatdya think, Paulie?” She asked through a mouthful of a sandwich.   
“If you can bail ‘em quick, maybe so,” Her brother fixed her with a stupid look. His lips were pursed and she could tell he was thinking about something.   
“Well I can, so that is, uh, a yes,” she said, blinking her eyes slowly at him as she waited for whatever snide comment was coming.  
“You always bail ‘em out slower in the rain though,” he said, finally having finished the laborious task of critiquing her internally.   
“You want Zeb’s kid on first mate then?”  
“Nah, I want you to bail ‘em quick.”  
“Well god dammit, Paul I’ll sure as hell try.” She let out a laugh of frustration through a mouth still full of sandwich.   
Once she was done, she patted the crumbs from her fingers and made her way to the side of the boat where the crank was. The rain was truly coming down at this point. And it was cold as ever. Not that there was ever really warm rain this far North. The shit would chill you to the bone. But nevertheless, she yelled over at Paul that she was ready to get back to it. 

The hours had passed miserably. The rain had been cold, as per usual, and Amelia had had to heave the wire crates onto the boat at a breakneck speed to keep her brother from nagging at her. She sorted the lobsters efficiently, though. She could eyeball them for the most part and rarely had to measure them. Most of the time, she would set them aside and then measure on her short breaks. The trick was to measure from the head of the lobster and see how long the carapace of the insect was. If it was less than 3 inches they had to go back into the sea. If they were bigger they were keepers. If they were breeders--if they carried eggs on them--then they also went back.   
Flinging bugs off the boat was pretty mindless work and she let her thoughts wander. They, of course, went straight to the reappearance of the prodigal child of the town. Amelia hadn’t been the most talented in school, but Talia, her closest friend, had been. She had worked endlessly for her high grades. And when she hadn’t been slaving over school assignments, she was working at the grocery store. She had always seemed to have a drive to push herself that Ameila had never seen in anyone else. When she had ditched town to go to college, she hadn’t been particularly surprised. But it had stung to have her best friend disappear without as much as a goodbye. But that was just Talia. If she ever found herself getting too attached to something, she would always find a way to get busy enough to forget about it.   
At least, that’s what she had done in high school. It had kept her out of relationships with boys. Not that Amelia had thought it was strange. She had never really seen the point of dating. The thought of being with a man was so forced and contrived in her head that she was pretty sure she’d die alone out on the water in some kind of losbstering accident.   
Amelia’s nose and ears were frigid in the rain. Her finger tips were numb through her gloves but she was now thoroughly distracted with Talia. Why had she come back? Her mother had stayed in the town of course, even after the old Ecologist had died. She had never quite understood their arrangement, but she supposed it wasn’t something for her to understand. But Talia had turned out pretty alright. She was a bit odd, a bit withdrawn and flighty, maybe a little intimidating, but overall she had a good heart. And high cheekbones to boot. She had the whole package, honestly. And she was taking up a decent amount of space in Amelia’s mind. Again. She brought herself back into her cold body, shoulders cramped from hunching over the crates. 

When the day was finally over, Amelia was stiff, soaked, and freezing. Her nose was running from the cold and she could hardly flex her fingers as she unloaded crates from the boat. It was just becoming dusk and the sky was still overcast and the rain was still coming down, only a bit lighter. She wanted to go home to bed and maybe someone in it to help the warmth seep back into her bones. But she didn’t have that. So she wanted a drink instead.

Amelia sat at the bar nursing a beer. Out of a nowhere a memory unearthed itself and she was left smiling to herself dumbly.  
“What you over there grinning about?” Her brother asked, noticing her look.  
Her father had always said that she had the memory of an elephant, and she couldn’t really say he was wrong.   
“Nunya business,” she sipped her beer.


	4. The Shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory returns to Amelia.

Chapter 4 - The Shore  
By the time Amelia pushed herself off and away from the bar, she was more than just a bit tipsy. But she was warm in her core and she was starting to feel drowsy. Her friends made noises of protest as she made to leave, but she waved them off and shrugged on her thick winter coat. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and pulled her knit cap on over her crop of hair and braced herself.  
But braced or not, the cold bit her cheeks and nose. Early spring didn’t mean shit in Maine. Maybe the snow was less frequent, but it still snowed all the same. She grit her teeth and began her walk back to her small house by the docks. She shoved her hands deep into her pocket, drunkenly trying to remember where she’d put her gloves. As she turned down the main street of town she decided they must be on the dash of her truck.   
This walk was something she did more or less on autopilot, but she found herself slowing as she turned to go down towards the shore. She glanced up the street and caught a glimpse of a run-down, red A-frame. Amelia found herself completely stopped in the middle of the road, staring at the house. The window upstairs was lit and a thousand thoughts flashed across Amelia’s mind. She assumed it was Talia’s room and she knew she was probably doing something sophisticated like reading some Russian classic or planning out her next grocery trip or braiding her hair or something. And here was Amelia, walking home drunk from the bar at---she glanced at her watch--11PM.   
She kicked at the dirt and pushed her hands even further into her pockets and continued on down the street until she reached her shack of a home. It wasn’t hard to tell the house was a hand-me-down. It had been Paul’s starter home, but Amelia had effectively made it her own. She had all kinds of magazine clippings up on the walls and photos of her, her brothers, and a few friends everywhere. Her snowgear was up on the wall as half decoration and half sheer functionality. There was very little space in her place so she had to make space where she could. 

The place had yellow walls and Amelia had been telling herself for over two years that she was going to repaint them something less bold but she had made no progress on it. That would mean taking down her photos and magazine clippings and random knick knacks that she had up on the walls. Also, she didn’t really mind the color. It was a happy color, even if it did cast a strange hue on everything.   
Amelia bent down and undid the laces on her boots. Once she could kick them off she left them haphazardly in the hallway and made her way to the shower to get clean after a long day in the rain. She shed her layers on her walk to the shower, dropping everything onto the ground. She knew the space wouldn’t ever be tidy, but it was at least clean.   
Amelia rubbed her face vigorously with a fist, started the shower, then turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her nose and cheeks were permanently red from being out in the sun and cold all day it seemed. Her laugh lines had gotten cemented along with a smattering of freckles. And her hair was unruly as ever. She smiled softly at herself in her drunkenness.   
“You’re not half-bad, Ames…” She muttered, stepping into her tiny shower and began to wash the day away.

It wasn’t until she was in her bed that she let her thoughts drift back to the memory from earlier at the bar. Amelia stared up at the ceiling for a moment as thoughts of her and Talia, young and reckless washed over her. 

Talia couldn’t laugh like Amelia, she would always hide her smiles and laughs behind her fist for some reason. And Amelia hated it. She hated it because she wanted to bring something to the surface of the placid lake that was Natalia. She was stupidly complex and there was nothing Amelia loved more than a puzzle. And if Amelia could do anything, she could evoke a strong emotion from someone. So that was what she planned on doing tonight.  
It was nearly midnight on a breezy summer night and it was prime weather to drink a beer on the beach in front of a fire. So Amelia had begged her brother to buy her a pack of beer and she was standing outside of Talia’s house. It hadn’t been the shortest walk, what with a case of beer in her backpack, but she had made it and was now staring up at her friend’s window.   
Her light was, thankfully, still on while the rest of the house lay dark. Amelia, always one for an adventure, grabbed a small rock and snuck up beneath Talia’s window. She looked up, worried her cheek between her teeth, then cocked back and tossed the rock against the window. It pinged softly against the glass and seconds later Talia was there, looking--if anything--a little pissed off.   
Her face didn’t change when she saw that it was Amelia either. Yes they were friends, no, Talia didn’t always enjoy being dragged along on Amelia’s adventures. Nevertheless, the tall girl bent and cracked her window as quietly as she could.   
Talia gave her an exasperated expression and mouthed “what?”, throwing her hands up. Amelia grinned from ear to ear and motioned at her backpack then waved Talia down. Talia stared down at her for a long moment, then looked over her shoulder, then back at Amelia. She was thinking hard, obviously. Amelia couldn’t fathom what there was to think about. Anywhere she went there was guaranteed to be a good time had by all. Plus it was summer vacation. What else was there to do? The weather was too nice to sit inside all night.   
Amelia motioned at her again to come down and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Talia shut the window and left the window. The light went out after about a minute and then Amelia was left staring at a dark house, waiting. 

When Talia finally exited her house, Amelia was practically buzzing with excitement. She paused for a moment to take in her long-legged friend. Her hair was nearly at her lower back and she had on a pullover and a pair of jeans that fit her perfectly and… Amelia ripped her eyes away from her friend’s legs. Coming back to she waved Natalia over frantically. When Talia got closer, Amelia basically jumped on top of her, grabbing her arm and cheering quietly. Talia shook her long hair out of her face and shook her head at the boisterous teenager. Talia wasn’t much older but she was far more mature--or at least she liked to think of herself as such.   
“This is going to be so much fun!” Amelia whisper-shouted, leading Talia towards the road to the beach.  
“And what is this?” Talia asked, only a slight accent clipping her words. “Where are we going?”  
“The beach!”   
“The beach? It is midnight, Ames…” Talia glanced back over her shoulder at her house, shrinking in the distance.   
“Exactly! Perfect time, if you ask me. I’ve got beer.”   
Talia rolled her eyes, but followed along anyway. It wasn’t long before the pair made it to the rocky beach and the sound of the water rushing against the shore drowned out any worried thoughts that Amelia could have had. She pumped a fist in the air and pointed a ways down the beach.  
“It would prolly be best if we’re not right in plain sight, ya know? I also brought a radio and don’t want us getting caught, ya know?” She said, marching onward.  
Once they found a suitable spot, Amelia disappeared into the woods on the shore to search for some branches for a fire. She was back quickly and returned to find Talia smoking a cigarette, sitting on the towel that Amelia had brought with her. Amelia’s brown crinkled a little bit but she set down the mostly dry wood and got to starting a fire. After a few seconds of fumbling with the wood she reached out a hand without looking at Talia.  
“Gimme your lighter.”  
“You can say please,” Talia said through a held breath, then pressed the lighter into her hand as she exhaled.  
Amelia waved a hand in front of her face to clear the smoke and scowled at the other girl. Cigarettes were disgusting to her but she had to get used to them, what with her whole family smoking like a bunch of chimney’s. They just didn’t smell good and they really didn’t make you feel too great without smoking a bunch in her opinion.

After drinking about 4 beers each, Amelia had properly taught Talia how to open a beer with a lighter and the two were substantially tipsy. They were both sitting on the towel and Amelia couldn’t stop talking. She normally couldn’t stop talking, which was fine, but right now especially she just couldn’t handle the thought of sitting in silence next to Natalia.  
“--so the plan is we’re gonna drive over to Vermont and there’s this little mountain called the Camel’s Hump and Paulie said that we’re gonna hike the whole thing. That’s what I wanna do, you know? I just wanna set a record for hiking all the mountains on the East coast. Wouldn’t that be so cool? Or like maybe--” the words just rushed out of her in between sips of beer. And Talia just watched her, cool eyes not displaying much beyond slight interest.  
Amelia finished her 5th beer quicker than she had planned and found herself falling quiet as she searched for another beer. The fire crackled loudly and Amelia caught Talia staring out at the water.   
“What’s on your mind, sugar pie?” Amelia asked, jokingly.  
“I wonder how cold it is,” Talia said, pressing the bottle of Ballantine to her lips thoughtfully.   
“Absolutely cold as shit,” Amelia snorted, cracking open her beer.  
There was a pause and right before Amelia opened her mouth to begin ranting about climbing mountains and traveling and getting out and exploring the world, Talia spoke.  
“Bet you won’t get in,” She said, bottle still to her lips. She wore a slight smile, and she was staring at Amelia out of the corner of her eyes.  
“Oh you bet I won’t?” Amelia’s chest swelled and she looked over at the cold body of water next to them. She took a big sip of her beer and thought for a moment. “Yeah, fuck you,” she said with a laugh and pulled her pull-over off.  
“Wait you’re actually--,” Talia began as Amelia stood.  
“Oh, yeah, dude. You literally give me no choice,” she said matter of factly as she shimmied out of her own baggy jeans. She picked up her bottle and took another sip, now standing in her underwear in the 60 degree weather. It wasn’t warm by any stretch of the imagination. “The only question is are you coming with me? Or is it gonna be too cold for you, Ice Princess?”  
Talia rolled her eyes and looked away for a moment, obviously thinking. But who was she to turn down a challenge? From Amelia no less. The queen of double-dog dares. There was no question in Amelia’s mind that if Talia didn’t come with her she would never let her live it down. Talia must have known that too because a second later she had set her beer to the side and was standing next to her.  
Amelia whooped and hollered and did a little dance to the song filtering out of the radio beside them. As Talia got undressed, Amelia tried her best not to look but at the same time she could hardly look away from her pale legs and taunt stomach. Her chest was smaller than she had presumed, but she looked perfectly symmetrical. Amelia wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment turning in her stomach or something else. But she had never really had a problem with how she looked so--  
“Okay, let’s go,” Amelia’s eyes flicked up to meet Talia’s and her face flushed.   
So she turned around and sprinted towards the water. Trying not to think about Talia’s breasts and long legs and how well she fit together and-- Her thoughts stopped when she hit the water. It was too cold to think. The air was forced out of her lungs when her upper thighs were covered in water. She let out a yelp but plunged in further, kicking her knees up high to move through the water faster. She could hear Talia behind her, letting out a similar noise and crashing through the waves behind her. Once Amelia had reached waist deep she took a deep breath and ducked beneath the surface of the water. She emerged seconds later, gasping and clutching at her arms. She felt like she was in shock as she looked over at Talia who was rocketing to the surface as well.  
The two of them looked at each, releasing real emotion in the moment and they both let out loud laughs. Amelia reveled in the sound of Talia’s laugh and she surged forward and wrapped her in a hug. Their skin pressed against one another’s was so hot. They were both absolutely frigid but they were also both so warm. 

All Amelia could think about was that hug when they were back at the fire, both wrapped in the blanket that Talia had thought to bring. They were shoulder to shoulder and Amelia could feel Talia’s warm skin burning against hers again. While Talia seemed nice and warm, Amelia wasn’t warming up too well. They were still both sitting in their wet underwear and after a solid 5 minutes of Amelia shivering violently, Talia finally looked over at her and clicked her tongue.  
“You’re going to have to take the wet clothes off if you can’t get warm.”  
“I-I--My underwear?” Amelia blanched.  
“That or you can freeze to death,” Talia gave her a cold smile. Amelia flinched.  
It wasn’t that she was shy, she normally would be the first to get naked in a group of friends. Skinny dipping? Always down for it. Changing in front of people? Not a problem. Sitting shoulder to shoulder with Talia completely naked? She just might die. But as she sat there, unable to get warm, she realized she was going to have to take it off if she didn’t want to get driven to the nearest hospital in about an hour.

Amelia came back to her senses, this time alone in her bed. She glanced over at the clock and realized it was nearly 1AM. She rubbed at her face and let out a soft groan. What a memory to lose herself to. She must have dreamed about it a hundred times. Oh to be 16 again… Or maybe just to not be alone. She really would never go back to that awkward stage even if you paid her.  
She rolled over and let her thoughts drift again. And they drifted right back to Talia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! If you have any comments or critiques please let me know! I haven't written much for this fandom in literal years so I'm feeling like I'm a little on shaky legs.


	5. The Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia and Amelia meet once more.

One of Talia’s new duties put her in charge of meals. That meant she could escape the house rather frequently to pick up the right ingredients. And the more time she spent with her mother, the more these trips became her saving grace. There were moments when he mother was perfectly cognizant, however she was quickly realizing her mother was slipping away. The study woman’s memory was like fine sand and it was slipping through Talia’s hands with every second that passed. 

While her mother didn’t seem fully aware that she was slipping, she seemed to have this fear of losing control of herself. So she dug herself into Talia’s life. Her old, time-gnarled fingers pried into every bit of Talia. Every interaction with her mother brought her stress, as she never knew what was coming. During some moments she was so sweet, remembering moments of childhood. Other times, her mother projected onto her with some wild fear and too much emotion for Talia to handle. And yet other moments Talia was lost to her. A stranger in her childhood home. 

It was difficult to feel sane after being around her mother for long periods of time. Her old memories began to blur together with the present and Talia was no longer herself. She was her aunt, Polina, she was a stranger, she was sometimes herself but so much younger. And all the while, she picked up groceries, made meals, and tidied around the house. She tried to steady herself with trips out of the house but she could not fight back the nagging feeling that she would leave for a trip to the beach and her mother would not remember her permanently this time. 

Of course, she had been reassured that this would not be the case for a long while. Her mother’s deterioration, while steady, was not fast. They would have months more of lucid conversations and she was safe living on her own. Talia was here for those months at least. Then maybe she would bring her mother with her back to Boston? She wasn’t clear on the details at this point, but a live-in nurse and her daughter assisting her wasn’t tenable at this rate. There was always the lingering fear that her mother would forget something important--like leaving on the kettle for hours or that her mother would fall--and that Talia wouldn’t realize. These thoughts plagued her every time she left the house. But she had to remind herself that is why she had the nurse and also a major reason for her return. 

Talia woke with the sun, she always had. No point in wasting the day away if she could help it. But she laid in bed and rested her eyes closed for a few minutes this morning. The silence of her house was a luxury. The damned television had been playing from dawn until dusk on most days and it was starting to wear down her nerves. But this little moment was hers. She wrapped herself up in her duvet, snuggling a little deeper into the comfort of her childhood bed. Cool light began to stream into the window and Talia knew she would have to bear the cold and get out of bed.

Afterall, it was Saturday, which meant it was a market day. She would drive about 45 minutes to the nearest sizable town and she would pick up the essentials like fresh baked bread and some root vegetables and maybe some meat.And she’d missed the first two during her original weeks back. So she was excited to finally make the trip. During the spring, she knew there’d be flowers for sale and she looked forward to buying them for the house. For the moment, she was content with the houseplants her mother had acquired. Those were her mother’s pride and joys. It was as if when Talia had left home after highschool her mother had replaced her with a series of leggy pothos and a peace lily. 

But it gave her mother something to fuss over besides Talia. And she had always appreciated that, however she was coming to find that growing things did not come naturally to her. 

Talia dressed quickly and braided her hair back into a simple braid and then pulled a headscarf on over it all. She slipped into a well fitting pair of wool socks, wool trousers and a red and white sweater that matched the floral print of her headscarf and then plodded down the creaky stairs as quietly as she could. Try as she might, she knew she had roused her mother as she heard her stirring in the room at the foot of the stairs. Talia kicked herself but could do nothing more than swear under her breath and make for the kettle.

She put the water on to boil and waited for her mother to come out of her room. She would need to wait on the nurse to arrive before she could leave for the market anyway. 

  
  


Amelia had been up for two hours when she finally saw the sun come up. Market days were a brutally early morning for her and it ended up taking her whole Saturday morning. She didn’t really mind not having the afternoon free, but it definitely came at a pretty steep cost. 4 AM mornings didn’t suit her too well and her already wild hair was shoved beneath her knit cap and she was wearing all her layers as she loaded bins full of lobster into the bed of her truck. 

This wasn’t Paul’s job, that was for damn sure. Amelia cursed under her breath as she heaved the last box into the back of the truck. Paul used to run markets when she was in her early years of highschool but as soon as she’d gotten her license, she was on market duty for the family. Paul had other things to do today, but they weren’t happening until it was at least decent outside. As of, Amelia checked her watch, 6:23 AM it was 18 degrees and she was pretty sure her nose was going to fall off. 

But there wasn’t time to waste. So she clapped her hands together and settled herself in the cab of the truck and turned the key in the ignition. The truck spluttered to life and Amelia made a grimace, knowing she’d need to do some work on the old thing soon. But that was for later. All the truck had to do was get her to and from the market. 

As Amelia pulled out of town, she cast a glance up at the red A-frame that was just off the main road. For a second she had a picture of her pulling up in that gravel lot with half a mind to see if Talia was still an early riser. But she quickly brushed the thought out of her head. She’d find time to see Talia, she was sure of it. Today just wouldn’t be the day. Instead, she cranked up her radio and let the sound of Pretty Poison fill the car to stop her from daydreaming. 

But apparently loud love songs weren’t what the doctor prescribed to stop lovesick thoughts. Is that what this was? She realized that she was diagnosing something that she really had tried to never put words to. Amelia checked her mirrors, then glanced at herself in the rearview mirror and saw a bit of panic in her own eyes.

Not that she wasn’t glad to have Taila back in town, but time had brought Amelia a decent bit of space to consider herself and what she wanted. And she was completely certain, despite her brother’s insistence, it wasn’t a man. She gripped the steering wheel and tried to push Talia out of her thoughts again and instead focused on something productive. Like what their schedule would be on Monday and how she would be spending her day off tomorrow. Maybe she could finally go pick up some paint for the house or she could take the time to actually do a deep clean. Maybe?

She spent the next 45 minutes in and out of deep thoughts surrounding the most foregin person she’d ever known and how cold it was going to be sitting out at the market for 5 hours. But she’d brought a hot thermos of coffee and it was sweet and had milk and she was going to very much need it soon. 

Setting up the lobster stand alone was a practiced art. Other vendors were kind enough to sometimes offer help, but for the most part there was no help to be had. The market was looking sparse, which made sense as it had just opened back up for “spring”. So it was just Amelia, an 8 foot wide tent, 5 crates of lobsters, and a folding chair. After struggling and swearing for a solid 15 minutes, she had the whole arrangement set up with her truck parked right behind her spot to give her somewhere to retreat into every once in a while to get warm and the chair settled next to two stacked bins which acted as a kind of table where she sat her coffee. 

She finished getting ready with about 15 minutes to spare and abandoned her painstakingly organized space to grab some breakfast from one of the bakery stands nearby. The market itself was rather large as it encompassed most of the small towns in a 50-mile radius who produced artisans and farmers who lacked a large enough local market to support themselves. It was a God send for a company like the Jones’ as they weren’t exactly world-renowned lobstermen. They had a few supermarkets and restaurants that bought from them in some bigger cities but they needed the extra business honestly. What would  _ really _ get them through the year was the Lobster festival in the summer, but that was months away.

Munching happily on a bearclaw, Amelia settled back into her spot and waited for the bell that signalled the start of the market. 

About an hour passed and business was somewhat steady. There had only been a few buyers, but it was still too early to tell how the day was going to go. Amelia was doing her best to stay warm with coffee but it wasn’t working too well. Despite all her layers--two pairs of socks, long underwear, jeans, a thermal under a sweater, a scarf, and a hat to top it all off--she was still feeling the chill in her bones. So she popped into her truck for just a second and cranked the heat. It obviously took a second to warm up. While the car warmed up she turned up the radio, just a little bit, and  _ She’s Like the Wind _ came filtering through with a few pops here and there. 

It couldn’t have been timed better. Because as Amelia leaned her head back against the seat of her truck she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. Her chest constricted just a little bit with excitement--maybe fear?--and she cranked down the driver’s window. 

  
  


Talia hear her name being called from somewhere in the market and a frown of confusion grew across her face. She wasn’t sure who she would even know at this market. She was reclusive, to say the least. The only person who she’d interacted with in the last two weeks was--

“Talia--Over here!” It was Amelia. 

Talia sighed to herself and drew her coat tight around her shoulders before she strode over to the car, looking prim and proper as ever. It felt like a sign of her own ill luck to run into her here. With all the mental space Amelia took up in her head she hardly had room for the real thing. 

“You work here?” Talia called to her through the open truck window, making polite conversation.

Amelia was practically hanging out of the car window to chat with her. It didn’t look comfortable, nor was it going to attract her customers. She looked like a wild-woman, Talia thought. But that was truly just how Amelia was. 

Amelia, obviously, was a force to be reckoned with. She wasn’t exactly always… Palatable. There had been many moments when Natalia had found herself at the edge of her rope with Amelia. But she was magnetic enough to draw her back in again. And here she was, drifting back into her orbit. Again.

“Yeah! This is my usual spot on Saturdays. I take the market shift so I can get a little time off in the evenin’, ya know?” The blonde smiled energetically. Where did she get such energy from?

“Ah, yes, that makes sense.” Talia nodded, curtly. “Well, it is good to see you--,” she began to walk away, her basket clutched at her side, but Amelia called out.

“Wait--wait,” Amelia opened her car door and clambered out quickly, following after her. “Talia--!”

Talia turned around, her face placid, save a cocked eyebrow. She paused and waited for Amelia to spit out whatever she was fumbling with. She couldn’t really imagine what she had to say. Their only interaction was at the bar and it hadn’t really been that monumentous. Just somewhat embarrassing, or at least she felt. They stared at each other for a few seconds.

“Yes?” She finally asked into the growing silence that was forming between them.

“Are you uh, coming back to town later?” Amelia asked, running a hand through her short hair.

“I would think so. I have to make dinner for my mother tonight.” 

“Ah…” Amelia trailed off then glanced over her shoulder at the bins behind her. “What’s your mom’s thoughts on fresh lobster?” She asked.

“Well, I would assume she likes it. But I unfortunately don’t know how to cook it correctly.” Talia said shortly, sucking in a deep breath. She mildly wondered if Amelia was about to try to force her to buy some lobster due to their longtime connections.

She was surprised when Amelia turned around, dug through her containers, and offered her two decently sized lobsters. As she banded their claws shut and pushed them at her she said:

“Well I’m not always the best chef, but uh, I could always show you how. It’s not a big process and I’m off tonight. And I mean it would be great to see your mom again--I mean if that’s alright. I don’t want to invite myself over--” the words were just flowing out of her. 

“I mean, uhm,” Talia stared down at the lobsters that were now in her hands. “It’s a very nice thought--”

“Oh god,” Amelia turned a bright shade of red, “Is that not okay? I’m sorry, I just thought--”

“No, no!” Talia offered her an awkward smile, “No, I don’t… Mom hasn’t been all there.” She stood in silence for a second.

“It’ll take just thirty minutes for them to cook, I can head out after that. I just thought…” Amelia trailed off. She stood looking at Talia, searching for some kind of answer. Talia could tell she wanted her to say yes and she felt a twinge in her stomach embarrassment. 

“No, it’s a kind thought. What time can you come over?” She asked, still holding the lobsters. 

Amelia brightened immediately, like a child who had been given exactly what they wanted. Talia had to wonder if she would have started to pout had she not gotten her way. 

“How about 6?”   
“Alright, 6 it is. Also,” Talia shifted the lobsters and extended them to Amelia, “Why don’t you bring these with you? That way they stay fresh…” 

Amelia laughed softly to herself and hastily took back the lobsters. Talia smiled thinly at her then excused herself as politely as she could. She kicked herself for saying yes, but at the same time she did acknowledge that it would be pleasant to have some company for a little while. Even if it was Amelia who had done the inviting. They parted ways and Talia continued on, trying to finish her shopping. 

As she went from stall to stall she did her best to not look back at Amelia, however there were a few occasions that she caught herself glancing back at the strange woman. Each time she looked back she caught Amelia in a moment of true human connection. She was either bartering or laughing or speaking energetically with a customer. She was like the first warm breeze of spring. An experience to savor, despite her oddities. Talia had always appreciated that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments if you've got any questions or critiques! Thanks!


End file.
